


Ask Me How I am

by evesharmony



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-01-03
Updated: 2008-01-03
Packaged: 2017-10-13 05:03:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/133256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evesharmony/pseuds/evesharmony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time they sleep together it’s on Cam’s bedroom floor and it’s hot and messy and perfect and Cam remembers with distinct clarity the moment he fucked it all up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ask Me How I am

**Author's Note:**

  * For [synecdochic](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=synecdochic).



> Written for synecdochic in the sg1_jubilee holiday fic exchange. She asked for: Daniel and Jack loved each other very much and it ended very badly -- now Cam is becoming slowly more fascinated by Daniel, and wants Daniel to let him in behind the walls Daniel has constructed.

1.

Cam blinks at the clock. 3:15.

A whole eight minutes later than Jackson’s last sleepover, but still over an hour short of the current record.

Jackson has learned a lot of things in the field over the years, but stealth isn’t one of his strong suits. Instinctively, Cam keeps his body relaxed, breathing deep and even. This is how it it’s going to play out:

Jackson dresses not-so-quietly and leaves, always remembering to lock the front door behind him. Cam tries to go back to sleep but fails because he can no longer ignore the fact that the empty pillow next to his head bothers him. He gets out of bed to escape his memories, but inevitably comes across some evidence of Jackson’s visit – a stack of papers knocked to the floor, microwave dinner forgotten and melting on the counter, a lonely sock in the hallway. This leads to something repetitive and inane – cleaning, or Beavis and Butthead, depending on how sorry for himself he’s feeling. And then the gritty-eyed drive to the mountain for the brief moment of cognitive dissonance when he first sees Jackson, reading/translating/daydreaming/lecturing/fully clothed and completely unaffected, until he remembers he’s supposed to be that way too.

It’s 3:16 and he’s wondering if he shouldn’t stop the clock until the front door clicks shut, because technically Jackson’s still *in* his apartment—

“Jackson.”

Pause. “Mitchell.”

“I’m awake, you know.”

“So it seems.”

Jackson has this way of asking questions without a question mark that always strikes Cam in a ‘what’s your point, idiot?’ kind of way. And he knows that Jackson knows that he knows he’s sneaking out in the middle of the night because, hello, not there in the morning, but he could at least *sound* sorry for being caught. Cam’s anger tightens in his chest, sudden and irrational because it’s not like he’s ever asked Jackson to stay (except for that first time), and so when he speaks he keeps his back turned to the door and says, “So you don’t have to be quiet when you go.” The ‘next time’ is implicit, but Jackson neither acknowledges nor denies it.

Cam can always tell when Jackson finishes dressing. There’s a slight pause between the last button and the first step to the door. Cam likes to think that in the heavy silence Jackson’s thinking about returning to bed, but in reality he’s probably doing a quick mental check to make sure he’s not forgetting anything.

The pause this night lasts longer than usual. Cam watches the red seven grow borders and morph into an eight. He wants to turn over, thinks that Jackson is waiting for just that, but anger holds him immobile, silent.

“See you in the morning,” Jackson finally says, and Cam pretends that he doesn’t hear the nonexistent question mark.

2.

The first person he runs into the next morning is Sam. She smiles warmly at him. “You’re here early.”

“Good morning to you too. Couldn’t sleep, figured I could spend the day getting caught up on paperwork.”

“Wow,” she says, suitably impressed or sarcastic he can’t tell. “Too bad General Landry scheduled a last minute mission to P3X-649.”

Cam wracks his brain. Purple ice planet? No, that was P3X-949. 649, 649…

Oh.

Sam nudges him with her elbow, teasing. “I kind of thought you’d be more excited to visit the Sendarans.”

So did he, back when he first read the mission reports. He tries to look appropriately enthusiastic. “Sure. Tropical landscapes. Scantily-clad natives catering to your every unspoken whim. What’s not to be excited about? I hear they…”

Sam frowns as he trails off, turns to follow his gaze. “Oh, hey Daniel.”

Jackson glances up from his papers as he passes. “Hey Sam. Mitchell.”

“P3X-649,” Sam calls after him.

He waves a folder in the air but doesn’t look back at them. “Got the memo.”

As Jackson rounds the corner, Cam tries not to let his eyes linger. A remnant of anger from last night flares up. He knows he’s being ridiculous, that this is the way it has to be. Cam’s not so full of himself to think that he’s the one thing standing in the way of the destruction of Earth, but Jackson…

He finds Sam’s frown directed at him. “Are you okay?” she asks.

But if anyone’s gonna save them, it’s gonna be Jackson, and Cam can’t risk this infatuation screwing things up. He may not be able to save the galaxy, but he’s not going to be the one waving a big white sign that says ‘Hey Ori, come on down. Daniel Jackson’s been kicked out of the SGC and Earth is yours for the taking!’ His hand is a fist in his pocket, but he forces a smile for Sam even despite the fact that she knows him too well to buy it.

“Sure. Nothing good ole P3X-949 can’t cure.”

3.

Cam isn’t sure what to expect when he steps through the event horizon: dancing girls, leis, marching bands. The landscape is hands down one of the most beautiful things he’s seen offworld, and there’s a warm breeze rustling the trees. He’s both relieved and disturbed to find that their welcoming committee is a party of one. Relieved because he’s not exactly in the mood for a celebration at the moment; disturbed because the lone woman is wearing ceremonial robes that Cam recognizes from Jackson’s report on the ‘priesthood of Sendar’. He fights his instinctive reaction to look at the man – the priestess may be able to read him, but that doesn’t mean he has to make it obvious.

“Doctor Jackson! It is wonderful to see all of you again.” Her eyes land on Cam. “Where is Colonel O’Neill?”

Since joining SG-1 Cam has had to introduce himself to a multitude of people who knew O’Neill or knew of him. Occasionally, like now, he doesn’t feel so much like the new leader of SG-1 as he does ‘not-Jack-O’Neill-of-SG-1’. There’s always an awkward pause that he pretends not to notice. Oddly enough, it’s Jackson that comes to the rescue.

“Tannen. This is Lieutenant Colonel Cameron Mitchell,” he says.

Cam jogs down the last few steps and holds out his hand. “Hi. I’m the new guy.” 

“Colonel O’Neill retired from active duty. Lieutenant Colonel Mitchell is our new—“

Replacement.

“—teammate,” explains Jackson. Even Cam can hear the frown in his voice, and for a brief moment a shadow passes over Tannen’s face as she glances between them. Cam feels a spike of anxiety, but tamps down on it ruthlessly.

O’Neill’s report had stressed the fact that the Sendari were aware (obviously) of how uncomfortable their visitors were and had gone to great lengths to give them privacy. There were also repeated assurances that their powers were limited to sensing vague emotional states, and even that was limited to the few who were welcomed into the priesthood.

Cam looks down at Tannen, counting backwards from a million in his head because the only other thing he can think of are the words to ‘It’s My Party’ and even that’s a little to girly for him. Tannen takes his hand and finally smiles, though it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”

4.

“Hey Jackson. You busy? I was just heading out for a beer and thought…”

His heart shouldn’t be pounding nearly this hard, but it’s like the effort to remain casual is making him even more nervous. Add to that the fact that he knows Jackson is going to say no, and his sweaty palms are reminding him more and more of the time he almost asked Amy Vanderburg to the prom and—

“Huh?”

“I said I think I could use the break.”

He’s left gaping for a moment before he realizes that Jackson has said yes, and then he’s offering him a ride, turning left at the last minute to go somewhere more to Jackson’s taste (as if he even has any idea what that would be). They end up in a pub far enough from the UCCS campus that the average age is at least approximate to theirs, but close enough that the couple at the table behind them is arguing about Kafka’s Amerika and the bartender is working on a degree in mechanical engineering.

They garner plenty of female attention and so Cam flirts, mostly out of habit, because he’s always been a sucker for a pretty face. Daniel somehow manages to ignore the women without insulting a single one of them, a skill Cam would give his left arm for, except that it means Jackson’s attention is on *him* all night and isn’t that what he wanted?

Two beers later and the heat of Jackson’s knee against his thigh has a flush creeping up his neck as Jackson talks about how in five thousand years they’ll all be discussing the mythology of Christ and Cam tries not to stare at his mouth.

It’s a losing battle, because after the third time Jackson catches him staring he opens his own mouth and blurts, “One. I’m not nearly drunk enough. And two. Have you ever done this before?”

No need to explain what *this* is.

Jackson takes a swig of beer and Cam’s eyes are drawn from his mouth around the bottle to the bobbing of his adam’s apple as he swallows. He leans further into Cam’s personal space and says, “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell, Mitchell.”

Cam frowns, and at first he’s not sure if Jackson is making fun of him or just trying to be cute. But Jackson’s eyes don’t hold a hint of amusement – they’re dark and even more unreadable than usual. It’s a confirmation, and a warning, and Cam gets it.

When Jackson slides off the stool and says “Let’s get out of here,” Cam ignores the tiny ripple of doubt that’s just sprung up in his gut and follows.

5.

Tannen leads them to the temple, through the corridors and to the hidden door they’ve just discovered a week ago. Though she sticks close to Cam’s side, Tannen speaks mostly to Jackson, asking about the research he’s done, any other references he’s found to Sendari culture, if he would like to revisit any of the ruins he’s seen on past visits with Colonel O’Neill.

Jackson declines politely, but Cam notes an odd catch in his voice, files it away for later. He can feel a headache coming on, and whether it’s from Tannen’s constant chatter or his mood or the fact that it feels like they’re descending into the bowels of the very planet Cam doesn’t know. He feels suffocated, and wishes for one moment that Tannen would leave him alone. He’s aware he’s not Jack O’Neill, thankyouverymuch, but it doesn’t mean she can’t trust him enough to walk down some stairs by himself.

Sam catches him squeezing the bridge of his nose. “Headache?”

“’s nothing.”

She waves off his denial. “I’ve got one too. I think it’s due to these energy readings. There’s a power source below, but it’s not very strong. Tannen, since you discovered the chamber, has anyone become sick? Head pains or stomach pains?”

Tannen is ahead by a few steps but she stops to look back at them. Her frown is thoughtful and completely sincere. “No, nothing like that. We do sense a . . . a heaviness . . . about the chamber, but it has not made anyone uncomfortable.”

“I too appear to be unaffected,” says Teal’c, voice echoing around them in the narrow curving stairwell.

“Jackson?” Cam calls down. Jackson is far ahead of all of them, his flashlight a faint glow in the darkness, but there is no response. Just as Cam is about to start worrying the light brightens. Jackson is making his way back up to where they’ve stopped.

“I think we just have to adjust. My ears popped a moment ago and I feel fine now.”

In the dimness Cam can’t see Jackson’s eyes, but his instincts tell him that Jackson is looking straight (unwaveringly) at him. It isn’t until that point that he realizes he’s curled his hand into a fist again, and relaxes slowly.

Tannen continues down. “Come. The chamber is just ahead.”

6.

Cam breathes a sigh of relief when they reach the surface again. His headache had disappeared after a jaw popping yawn, just as Jackson had predicted. Still, something is bugging him about this mission, even more so when he can’t put his finger on it. Teal’c and Tannen are chatting about people Cam hasn’t met yet when Sam emerges from the temple, satisfied that there’s nothing dangerous in the underground chamber.

“How long is he gonna be down there?” Cam asks.

Sam shrugs. “Whenever we drag him out?”

He looks at his watch and can’t help the somewhat fond exasperation that washes over him. He thumbs his radio. “Yo Jackson.”

This time he doesn’t have to wait for a response. “Yes?”

“We’re going to check in with you every 30 minutes. You don’t answer, we assume you’re in trouble and we come running. Got it?”

“Umm…okay.”

“Good. Mitchell out.”

As they start their short hike to the village it occurs to Cam that that’s the first normal conversation he’s had with Jackson all day. The fact that it only happens because they’re separated by half a klick of solid earth doesn’t entirely escape him.

7.

The first time they sleep together it’s on Cam’s bedroom floor and it’s hot and messy and perfect and Cam remembers with distinct clarity the moment he fucked it all up.

He hands Jackson a warm washcloth to clean himself up and says, “In the morning I’ll make you Grama Mitchell’s special pancakes. Guaranteed to be the best breakfast you’ve ever had.”

Even before he finishes speaking he can tell something’s wrong. Jackson’s face goes blank and he reaches for his boxers.

“Actually, I can’t stay. I still have to finish my report for General Landry, and then we have that meeting with the IOA first thing.”

He’s already got his pants done up and is sliding into a t-shirt. Cam tries to mask his disappointment with humor.

“Your loss. Just don’t come complaining to me when you’re eating powdered eggs and burnt sausages in the commissary.”

Jackson flashes him a tight smile and Cam is almost tempted to make this hard on him. “So I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  
Cam sighs inwardly. “Yeah. See ya tomorrow.”

8.

Tannen waves, trying to get his attention. He feels bad for thinking meanly of her earlier, since she’s pretty much left him alone for the rest of the day. She is smiling widely as they weave through the dancers toward each other, practically glowing, and Cam wonders if she’s feeding off all of the feel good vibes surrounding them.

“Have you spoken with Doctor Jackson?” she asks when they are close enough to be heard without shouting.

“Just checked in with him a few minutes ago.”

“And he was well?”

“Happier’n a pig in s—an ancient temple,” he quickly amends.

Her smile begins to falter.

“Tannen – what is it?”

She bites her lip and for the first time looks unsure of herself. “I fear he is in some distress.”

Cam goes immediately for his radio, but Tannen’s hand clamps over his, small and determined. “He is not in danger. Please. You must go and speak with him.”

“Why? What’s going on?”

She tugs him away from the others. “There is something that we did not tell you. We know how much you dislike our abilities. We feared you would abandon our friendship if you knew. Please do not be angry, but you must go to the temple and find Doctor Jackson.”

She’s gone, disappeared back into the crowd before he can catch her. He thumbs the radio. “Sam, Teal’c – I’m going to go check on Jackson.”

“Is everything okay?” Sam asks.

“I’m not sure. Keep an eye out for Tannen, would you?”

9.

The temple is abandoned at this time of night, so Cam’s footsteps echo loudly throughout the corridors. As soon as he approaches the secret door his head begins to buzz. There’s no sound coming up from the stairwell, but he can’t tell if that’s a good or a bad sign. The light on the P-90 bounces jaggedly off the steps as he descends, bracing himself for—

For Jackson’s hunched shoulders as he squints at a section of text on the wall. He doesn’t even note Cam’s appearance, which is nothing new except for the fact that something is still *off*. The longer he stares the more he realizes that Jackson isn’t concentrating on the wall – there’s a fine tremor running across his shoulders, like he’s trying very hard to keep very, very still. He quickly scans the small room.

“Jackson?”

He doesn’t move as Cam approaches, circles, hunkers down. Jackson’s eyes are closed. The chamber’s not all that warm compared to the surface, but a bead of sweat trembles in Jackson’s hairline. Cam follows it’s path over cheekbone, jawbone, until it disappears in the collar of Jackson’s jacket.

Jackson is . . .

Afraid, he thinks suddenly without knowing why, like the thought is forcing itself into his head. Jackson has no reason to be afraid – unless in Cam’s sweep of the room he’s missed something vitally important.

“Daniel.”

Finally Jackson opens his eyes.

“What is it? Are you hurt? Possessed? What the hell’s the matter?”

“You are,” Daniel says as his eyes fall closed again.

“What?”

Daniel snorts humorlessly. “The Sendari forgot to mention one itty bitty thing when they asked us to come investigate their hidden chamber.”

Cam grips his P-90 so hard his knuckles turn white. This is what Tannen had been talking about. “What’s that?”

“That this room is the source of their power.”

Cam’s mind races toward bombs and explosions. Daniel snorts again and Cam is battered by a flash wave of frustration. “You don’t get it, do you? The priests of Sendar are not special, they are not chosen by the Gods. Their empathic abilities come from whatever device is buried in these walls. Over the years their power strengthens with continued indirect exposure to the device. The priests who first built this temple sealed this room off as they deemed direct exposure too powerful.”

“Too powerful how, exactly?” Cam asks, though he already knows the answer. He can feel his own fear and frustration, can feel how the other emotions are different, separate, held oh-so-tightly in check.

“So strong and sudden that the effects may border on telepathy.” The words are said with studied calm, but Cam can feel a torrent of emotions battering to be let loose, as if Daniel has an invisible barrier surrounding him. Cam has spent a lot of time speculating on what goes on in Daniel’s head. None of his musings involved barely leashed chaos, layers upon layers of pain and amusement and hunger and contentment and frustration. And fear.

He reaches forward – through the barrier – and lays his hand on Daniel’s shoulder. The walls come crashing down around them.


End file.
